The Secret
by IHeartMarvin
Summary: My version start of OOTP. Waiting for HBP to come out, always seemed to make this one in my head when i couldn't sleep! HG/RW some HP/GW. Oneshot!


Based at the beginning of OOTP (HG/RW some HP/GW)

Ginny Weasley was not a morning person. Hermionie had realised this two years ago when they had first shared a room at The Burrow, before going to the Quidditch World Cup. That morning, Hermionie's life had flashed before her eyes as a skilfully aimed Quaffle was thrust in her direction after trying to wake Ginny at 4am. She had never tried to wake Ginny again, taking the advice of her brothers, who each swore they had experienced true violence from the small redheaded girl who barely even reached their shoulders. Now, a year later, Ginny was still small compared to her brothers, but Hermionie wasn't even going to contemplate opening the bright purple curtains (the colour of the Holyhead Harpies, Ginny's favourite all-witch Quidditch team) through which the sun was struggling to shine.

As Hermionie looked around the room, again decorated with the colours and pictures of the Holyhead Harpies, she remembered the conversation she and Ginny had had late last night, and smiled to herself. She was never happy talking about girlie things with Parvati or Lavender in the Gryffindor common room, it was as though she could not trust them.But with Ginny it was different. She listened to what people were saying, and picked up on the important bits, not just the things that she wanted to hear. She was also incredibly observant. It was as if she could almost tell what someone was thinking just by the tone of their voice. But what Hermionie found most strange was that Ginny seemed to trust her. Nobody had ever asked her advice on things like _boys_ before. It was all new to her, having a friend who was a girl, and didn't fill every conversation with dark thoughts about Voldermort. Also, she could talk openly without being laughed, scowled or shouted at. Unfortunately though, Ginny also seemed to have a knack of knowing things that hadn't openly been said. It was because of this that the conversation had first turned to the youngest of Ginny's older brothers, and one of Hermionie's best friends; Ron.

As she reflected on these thoughts, Hermionie didn't notice that there was a stray book lying on the floor. She tripped over it with a huge crash, and for a moment didn't understand what was happening as she realised that the book wasn't even hers. But as she heard the unmistakable sound of an irritated fourteen-year-old rising from her sleep, she was forcibly reminded of an angry lioness wondering what to eat next. Hermionie got up and frantically darted towards the door, wrenched it open, and fell out onto the landing, straight into the arms of Ron.

_"Ok, awkward," thought Hermionie slowly, her brain struggling to keep up with what had just happened, "What am I supposed to say to this? Oh, thanks for catching me Ron. My! Your arms are muscular this morning!"_

"Um, good morning to you too?" Ron stifled a laugh uncertainly after he had gently pushed Hermionie to face the right way up.

"Hi! Um, I mean, um, thanks for um, catching me…yeah," stuttered Hermionie breathlessly. Her heart had started beating very fast, and she had trouble controlling her breathing when she was nervous.

_"Oh no. Please don't ask why I'm blushing; please don't ask why I'm blushing!"_

"You're looking quite red," laughed Ron, "Have you been avoiding my crazy sisters violent Quaffle throws again?"

_"This is so unfair!" her train of thought started going faster and faster now that she was trying to think of a sensible way to get out of having this conversation, delivering quite interesting facial features to a bemused looking Ron, "Why do I always blush at the wrong moments? And why am I blushing anyway? Uh-oh. I mean, yeah, I've always thought that he was nice-looking, kind of tall, handsome, funny. No! Stop thinking this! He might see it on your face!"_

"Wait a minute, what?" she added to herself accidentally.

_"Oh no, did I say that out loud? Oh just stop making a fool of yourself and concentrate on NOT TALKING TO YOURSELF HERMIONIE!"_

Ron looked at her questioningly and blinked a few times. His hands were still on her forearms. As if realising this, he jumped away quickly as if he had been electrocuted.

Ron's POV

_"Get a grip, Weasley! They were only on her arms! There I was, jumping around like Neville on a broom! Now, I've got to think of something intelligent to say! Quickly! Oh, and don't forget to act cooool…"_

"Um, so dentist's, huh?" he asked, running his fingers through his mop of bright red hair, evidently forgetting that he had just woken up and that Pigwidgeon had decided a few days earlier that his comb would make a nice toy.

_"Do I actually understand the meaning of cool? Or intelli- oh yeah…well I guess that's no big surprise."_

"I'm sorry?" said Hermionie, evidently worried by his odd question. She glanced quickly at the freckly hand that was now stuck in his tangled morning hair, and decided- for his sake- not to notice.

"Nothing," he dismissed quickly, "So, hungry? I can make you breakfast if you want. No one else is up, and Mum's gone down to the village"

"Ottery St. Catchpole? Why?" She seemed anxious to keep the conversation away from dentists and hair.

They had started to walk down the rickety, old stairs that connected The Burrow's many storeys together. Ginny's room was only on the second floor, and so there was only two flights of stairs to walk down. As Ron explained that his mother enjoyed trying to cook "the muggle way", and liked to look at the variety of different books in the shops, he noticed that Hermionie was looking at him.

"What?" he asked. Noticing for the first time his complete lack of good timing as she started blushing again.

Hermionie's POV

_"Why must he always do that? I was only looking at his freckles!" she argued with herself "Wait, why was I looking at his freckles? They are not cute! Well, I suppose the way they kind of- No! Stop it Hermionie, you're driving yourself mad!"_

"Are you ok?" he asked suspiciously, "the Quaffle didn't actually hit you did it? I mean, you might have a concussion."

"No," she laughed, "Ginny didn't even wake up, I got out just in time."

"Oh ok, good" he said, sounding relieved as he strode over to the cupboard where they kept the frying pans, "Fried eggs and toast, ok?

"Yeah, good, thank you," said Hermionie, realising that she was standing in the middle of the Weasley's kitchen. She sat down, trying not to be glad that he was worried about her.

He leant down to reach the lowest shelf and Hermionie's eyes rested on something that made her heart skip a beat. There was a note sticking out of the back pocket of Ron's jeans. At the top of the note there was a name. Her name.

"What's that?" she asked without thinking.

_"No, no don't tell me, I don't want to know! What am I saying, of course I do!"_

"What? Hermionie, surely you know! This is called an oven!" he joked, not realising what she was talking about, chuckling at his own feeble attempt at sarcasm, he carried on with the cooking.

"Very funny," she snapped, automatically going back to their old ways of bickering. Suddenly her curiosity got the better of her. "I mean the note in your pocket."

She saw his whole body stiffen. She literally had to jump out of her chair to prevent the frying pan that he was holding in his limp hand from falling to the floor.

"Careful!" she warned. He had tried to cover his back pocket and accidentally brushed his hand against the hot oven.

"Ouch!" he yelled loudly. He momentarily forgot about the note in his pocket as he started to hop around the kitchen, swearing under his breath and clutching his bright red hand.

"Calm down!" Hermionie said. Thinking quickly, she took his hand and shoved it under the tap, turning the cold water on at the same time.

It took a few minutes for them to come to terms with what had just happened. Ron looked at her carefully. It seemed that he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say. Many times, he opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to come out except for a few exclamations of pain as his hand throbbed.

_"Say something! Damn it my hand hurts! Is she still holding it? What do I do? Please say something Hermionie!"_

"So, I save you from falling down the stairs, and you save my from having my hand amputated. We're equal then!" stuttered Ron. It all came out in a rush, he wasn't even sure if she had heard him until she started to laugh. He loved her laugh, it was gentle, rather high-pitched and made him feel happy.

Just then, a distraction appeared in the form of Ginny. She stomped into the kitchen, looked at them for a moment as she took in the scene, shook her head slightly as if trying to get something off it, causing her long red hair to cascade right our of her untidy pony tail, and sat down.

For a few moments she sat in silence, watching them with interest. The tap was still running, and Hermionie was still holding Ron's burnt hand underneath the cool water. As she became more aware of her surroundings, her eyes brightened at the sight of food.

_"Thank you, thank you Ginny! If I'm ever mean to you again, I- well I promise to stop- well thank you!" Ron swore to himself._

"What was that, just now?" she said interestedly. Her bright brown eyes kept flicking from him, to his hand, to Hermionie, and back to him as her brain began to regain conciousness. He could just see the cogs turning in her mind as she obsevred them.

_"I take it back. Damn you Ginny!"_

She was in a good mood. In his experience, this was never a good sign.

"Nothing!" Hermionie laughed in a voice that was most unlike her own. She had yet again demonstrated her complete inability to lie. She turned off the tap and busily started to check Ron's hand for any more injuries, although it was obvious that there weren't any.

_"Why is she still holding my hand? The tap is off! What do I do now? Am I supposed to hold her hand back? Oh help!"_

"Yeah well, anyway, Ron when your ready, will you make me some eggs?" asked Ginny.

"Make them yourself," murmured Ron, forgetting in his anxiety to snap at his sister.


End file.
